


Undivided Attention

by ABrighterDarkness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 17:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20642801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Parvati was more than a little flattered to be the recipient of Hermione Granger’s undivided attention, attention that normally belonged solely to Potter and Weasley.





	Undivided Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Volume 4. Much love to my Beta and Alpha who shall remain nameless for the moment.   
Song Prompt - Mother Knows Best - Donna Murphy - Tangled

The war, and all of the battles and trials associated with it, had undoubtedly been a nightmare for everyone involved. How could it not have been, with all of the destruction of their world, all of the death?

Parvati had found it incredibly unfair that it had taken both of her sisters from her. Padma, her twin and literal other half, had been crushed while attempting to evacuate some of the younger years from the castle when the battle had begun. And, of course, that feral bastard Greyback had taken Lavender from them. 

Her parents had decided that the country had taken enough from them and fled to stay with Parvati’s maternal grandparents.

And Parvati...well, she was the last Patil standing in Britain. And she hadn’t been handling that fact very well. Not very well at all. 

Maybe she should have fled, too.

It was roughly four months after the dust had settled following the final battle, when Parvati awoke in a strange bedroom, wearing clothes that were not her own, and sporting a nightmare of a headache that told her that she might have drank just a  _ little bit _ too much the night before. It was certainly not the first time that she had over-indulged during the months following the war .

But the strange room and clothes? That was certainly new.

Parvati took a moment to consider the scenario she found herself in. There was no unexpected soreness or tenderness on - or in - her body where there shouldn’t be. That fact definitely offered a strong measure of relief. The clothes that she was dressed in clearly belonged to a woman and were Muggle in origin if she recalled correctly.

She had just begun a cursory study of the room itself when the door cracked open and a petite figure pushed through guiding a floating tray that smelled truly heavenly.

“Oh! You’re awake!”

Parvati blinked in confusion and carefully pushed herself into a sitting position, head spinning slightly at the motion. “Um...yeah,” she mumbled, blearily. “Hermione?”

“I imagine that you’re feeling rather rotten this morning,” the curly haired witch said softly, her tone awfully considerate of the hangover Parvati was battling. “You were in pretty rough shape when we got you here.”

The witch carefully settled the tray across Parvati’s lap and reached over to reposition the pillows to better support an upright position. The behavior of her former roommate was unexpected, but Parvati wasn’t quite in a position to complain. She stared blankly at the tray for a moment, taking in the large plate sporting a mouthwatering full English, a large--bowl? mug?--of tea, positioned beside a tall glass of water. Oh! And a hangover potion! She could  _ kiss _ Granger right about then!

“Eat,” Granger encouraged with a smile. “It’ll help.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate this, I really do,” Parvati began as she nudged the food with the provided fork. “But what happened? And why are we...wherever we are?”

“We’re at my parents’...well now  _ my _ house. Muggle London. I don’t know how much you remember from last night but I found you stumbling towards Knockturn Alley,” the other witch explained, wearing the all-too-familiar look of disapproval that Parvati vividly remembered from their school years.

“So you brought me to your home?”

“Well, I tried to take you back to yours but you couldn’t remember where that might be and I wasn’t just going to leave you like that,” the girl shrugged.

“And the clothes?” Parvati questioned, now equally invested in the offered meal--which had helped to ease some of her wicked hangover symptoms, the nausea specifically--and the conversation at hand.

“You didn’t handle sidelong very well, being as drunk as you were. You had gotten sick all over yourself. I only used a gentle cleansing charm so you’ll probably want a proper shower soon. Your clothes are still in the wash. I’ll get them back to you once they’re finished.”

“Oh,” Parvati replied, blinking owlishly, surprised at the information. Had she really gotten that bad last night? Huh. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Granger smiled. The warmth of the gesture was surprising, considering that the two witches had never been particularly close. Once Parvati had eaten her fill and polished off both tea and potion, Granger took the tray and made to leave the room. As she opened the door, she glanced back over her shoulder, “Just rest off your hangover, Parvati. You can stay for a while longer if you need.”

Embarrassing as it was to admit, Parvati found herself in the same situation another three times over the month that followed: waking up hungover in Hermione’s house, her head foggy and aching, and her memories of the night before hazy and questionable. She was forced to admit that maybe, just maybe her sense of judgement wasn’t the most reliable. That maybe she did need help.

It was surprising and, admittedly, flattering that Hermione seemed to step into that role and offered a hand with a warm smile and, more importantly, no pity. 

%%%

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Hermione said softly but decisively. “Wouldn’t having a quiet night in, just the two of us, be so much better than dealing with the crowds?”

“But Hermione,” Parvati sighed , “It’s the first anniversary. We’re expected to be there.”

“I know,” Hermione replied softly, tightening her arms around the other witch’s waist, snuggling into her back as they settled in for the night. “But we’ve only just got to where losing them isn’t killing you, love. I worry that going to the Memorial would bring it all fresh. I--I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Truthfully, Parvati wanted to go. She wanted to see her sisters--and everyone else--honored. She wanted to see and stand with everyone who had fought and survived on the anniversary of the battle. It felt...vital.

She hadn’t seen much of anyone  _ but _ Hermione lately, focusing instead on her own recovery. Hermione had worried that too much outside interference and pressure might push her to relapse. Parvati wasn’t sure that she entirely agreed, but Hermione was looking out for her. She knew and was grateful for that fact. It had only been six months since the last time that Hermione had found her wandering drunkenly through Diagon Alley. So maybe...maybe a short time removed from others’ grief was a good thing.

In the end, they didn’t go to the Memorial, neither of them. 

They watched a handful of films that Hermione had thought she would enjoy and indulged in more sweets and ice cream than Parvati had ever seen her former roommate eat. Despite missing the Memorial, it was surprisingly pleasant to spend the evening curled up peacefully on the sofa with each other. It was a closeness that she had been sure she had lost when Padma and Lavender died and a simple intimacy that she hadn’t ever considered having with Hermione Granger, of all people.

Parvati felt a little guilty about the Howlers that Hermione had received because of it though. Hermione had only stayed in for her, afterall. The witch didn’t seem to mind the disappointment of her friends though. She had shrugged it off with the air of someone who truly expected nothing less.

Though, Parvati remembered Molly Weasley’s voice ringing through the Great Hall a number of times when they were in school, so perhaps Hermione was right to expect no less.

She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Parvati was more than a little flattered to be the recipient of Hermione Granger’s undivided attention, attention that normally belonged solely to Potter and Weasley. To be the only person to feel the warm affections from the oftentimes prickly witch was an unexpected, but welcome, delight. 

%%%

“So wait,” Hermione said, tilting her head in thought. “You got the job?”

“I did!” Parvati nodded excitedly.

“Congratulations, love,” the other witch smiled warmly, though with decidedly less enthusiasm than Parvati had been hoping for as she reached across the table to squeeze Parvati’s hand affectionately. “So  _ Witch Weekly _ ? I suppose you’ll be getting to do plenty of travelling?”

“It’s possible,” Parvati shrugged. “Mostly it’ll be local but there’s some opportunity to go to other places throughout the UK, and less often abroad.” Hermione’s expression twisted ever so slightly, as though she was trying to keep her expression warm through pure force. Parvati had been around her long enough to recognise the concealed concern, bordering on disapproval, hidden within the odd expression.“You don’t want me to travel?” Parvati asked guardedly.

“No, no, of course not, if your job requires you to travel, you go where you must,” Hermione said with a dismissive smile. “We’ll manage that hurdle when it comes.”

%%%

“Hey, Hermione!” Parvati called, jogging the last few steps to catch up, smiling brightly. She didn’t often visit Hermione at the Ministry during working hours but she found it fascinating to see the witch in her element when she had the chance.

“Parvati,” Hermione greeted with a surprised smile, looking up from the carefully stacked pile of official-looking documents secured in her arms. She stepped forward enough to press a soft kiss to Parvati’s left cheek, something Parvati had come to welcome as Hermione’s ‘professionally’ affectionate greeting. “What are you doing here? It’s a little early for lunch.”

“I won’t be able to make lunch today, actually,” Parvati said apologetically. “I have a lunch meeting with a potential client that I can’t miss. But I still wanted to see you so I thought that I would let you know I can’t make it in person, rather than by owl.”

“Oh,” Hermione nodded, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. They conversed companionably for a short while longer before Parvati had to take her leave, assuming that was that.

Later that evening, once they both got back home for the night, Parvati was proven wrong when they began--yet another--round of twenty questions.

It wasn’t “ _ How did it go?” _ or  _ “Did you get the story/contract/whatever?” _ No, it was more like:

“Where did you go?”  _ It’s not really a good idea for you to do business lunches there, is it? The temptation, love. _

“What did you order?”  _ Oh, Parvati, that’s awful for you. _

“Who was the client?”  _ Oh. They’re pretty heavy in the party scene, aren’t they? _

For all the excitement of a very successful business lunch--during which Parvati might have very well landed a career making contract--after the conversation with Hermione, it really didn’t feel all that exciting anymore.

“Thanks Hermione,” Parvati sighed with a forced smile. “I’m heading to bed.”

%%%

But it just got worse...or rather, it just didn’t get better.

Two years after the fourth--and last--morning that she woke up in Hermione’s spare bedroom suffering from a raging hangover, Parvati wanted to celebrate. She hadn’t had anything stronger than pumpkin juice in years and she was doing  _ so _ much better. Obviously, she still missed Padma and Lavender something fierce but she wasn’t drowning in the grief of their loss anymore.

She knew that she had Hermione to thank for that. She wasn’t ungrateful for the woman’s patience and care. Without Hermione, who knows where Parvati might have found herself?

So maybe her witch’s over-protectiveness was justifiable. 

But…

_ Where are you going? _

_ Who’s going to be there? _

_ Will they be drinking? Oh, Parvati, I don’t think that’s a good idea. _

_ When will you be home? _

_ Are you sure you want to do that? _

Wasn’t Parvati grown up enough to handle an evening out with a few friends? Hadn’t she healed enough to be trusted?

Things boiled over a few nights later when she mentioned, again, about going out with a few friends.

“I don’t know why you’re so sure that I can’t be trusted! Haven’t I proven it over the last--what--two years?” She demanded, voice heavy with hurt, frustration, and anger.

“Parvati,” Hermione frowned, eyes wide in surprise at the outburst. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. That’s--that’s not it at all.”

“Then  _ why _ , Hermione? Why do you still feel the need to treat me like some fragile child?” Parvati couldn’t help the way her voice rose as the words poured free.

“Because I love you, damn it!” Hermione returned, voice rising to match Parvati’s. “Because it scares the living  _ hell _ out of me--just the  _ thought _ \--of finding you stumbling around the Alley again. That someone  _ else _ might find you instead! That I might not be there fast enough-- _ again _ \--and you’ll be hurt! Or worse!”

“Two years! I haven’t had a single drop in two  _ years _ , Hermione!” Parvati argued.

“I know,” Hermione conceded. “Parvati, you have to know that...that watching you heal and come back into your own...I’m so,  _ so _ proud of how far you’ve come. I-I’m sorry if I’ve made it seem like I don’t trust you. I do. It’s...it’s just that…” she paused, gaze dropping to the floor and her hands twisting anxiously in front of her. “I need you to be okay. I need to know that you’re safe. That I haven’t lost you, too.”

Hermione was crying and Parvati felt like a child throwing a tantrum because they weren’t allowed to run into oncoming traffic. 

Her shoulders dropped and she sighed heavily, the fight leaving her all at once. Parvati carefully pulled the other witch to her, arms wrapping snuggly around her waist. Slowly, tentatively, Hermione’s arms snaked around Parvati’s waist as well, hugging her tightly.

“I”m sorry I yelled,” Parvati murmured, resting her cheek against the wild curls. “I’m grateful for you, Hermione, grateful for us. But I also need to have a bit more room to grow, too. I need friends of my own. A chance, every once in a while, to just be Parvati.”

“Is it so bad that I want you to be safe?” Hermione murmured into the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“It is when it’s this suffocating,” Parvati answered. “A guilded cage is still a cage, love. You can’t control everything.”

They were quiet for several long minutes, just sinking further into the embrace. Parvati stroked one hand up to catch gently into chaotic curls to urge Hermione to meet her gaze and when she did, lips met in a gentle kiss that was somehow both apologies and tentative forgiveness from both sides.

“I know,” Hermione admitted after breaking the affection to rest their foreheads together. “I know you’re right. I don’t  _ mean _ to be controlling or to try to control you, truly.”

“Your brand of care has  _ always  _ been a little heavy handed, Hermione,” Parvati replied with a teasing grin. 

Hermione paused for a moment before a blush stole over her cheeks and she offered a sheepish shrug, “I suppose you’re right. And I do care about you more than most. I’ll--I’ll try to be better.”

“I’ll hold you too that,” Parvati smiled. She wasn’t sure if that was the end of it or if the conversation would be repeated with any sort of frequency but she knew that Hermione was a good woman. Heavy-handed and overly protective but good. Hopefully...hopefully this heart-to-heart would bear fruit sooner rather than later.

She hoped.


End file.
